"Ha! ha!" laughed Kitty, "what a capital idea. It will be new, at all events; but I won't decide till I see the first act complete; if it's as good as it promises, I'll get Mortimer to stage it after 'Prince Carnival.'" Keith was delighted, as now he seemed to have obtained a chance of seeing what he could do. Ezra smiled, and nodded to Stewart. "I told you she'd be a good friend," he said. The gentlemen all came into the room, and in a short time there was a perfect babel of voices talking about everything and everyone. Suddenly Fenton, with a half-smoked cigar in his hand, entered the room and crossed over to Kitty. "There's a rough-looking man outside who wants to see you," he said quietly. "What's his name?" "Villiers." Kitty turned a little pale. "The husband of Madame Midas," she said, in an annoyed tone. "Where is he?" "Walking up and down in front of the dining-room." "Remain here; I'll see him," she said, in a decided tone, and, without being noticed, left the room. On entering the dining-room, she found Mr. Villiers seated at the supper-table drinking champagne from a half-empty bottle, having entered through the window. "What do you want?" she asked, coming down to him. Mr. Villiers was in his usual condition of intoxication, and began to weep. "It's Kitty, dear little Kitty," he said, in a maudlin tone, "the friend of my dear wife." "Your dear wife," said Kitty scornfully; "the woman you deceived so shamefully; she was well quit of you when she went to live in England." "She left me to die alone," wept Villiers, filling his glass again, "and only lets me have a hundred pounds a year, and she's rolling in money." "Quite enough for you to get drunk on," retorted Kitty. "What do you want?" "Money." "You sha'n't get a penny." "Yes I shall. You talk about me treating my wife badly; what about you--eh?" Kitty clenched her hands. "I did treat her badly," she said, with a cry. "God help me, I've repented it often enough since!" "You were a nice girl till you met Vandeloup," said Villiers. "Ah, that confounded Frenchman, how he made me suffer!" "Leave Vandeloup alone; he's dead, and it will do no good you reviling him now. At all events, he was a man, not a drunkard." "She loves him still, blow me!" hiccupped Mr. Villiers rising--"loves him still." "Here's a sovereign," said Kitty, thrusting some money into his hand. "Now, go away at once." "I want more." "You won't get more. Get away, or I'll order my servants to turn you out." Villiers staggered up to her. "Will you, indeed? Who are you to talk to me like this? I'll go now, but I'll come back, my beauty! Don't try your fine airs on me. I'll get money from you when I want it; if I don't, I'll make you repent it." Kitty stood looking at him like a statue of marble, and pointed to the open window. "I spare you for your wife's sake," she said coldly. "Go!" Villiers lurched towards the window, then, turning round, shook his fist at her.